Prophecy
by SweetFirefly
Summary: You fall. /LarsXAlisa, during Scenario Campaign/


**Fandom: **Tekken  
><strong>Title: <strong>Prophecy  
><strong>Author: <strong>SweetFirefly  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG/K+  
><strong>Genre: <strong>Angst/Romance  
><strong>Pairing: <strong>Lars Alexandersson X Alisa Bosconovitch.  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>For the Scenario Campaign in Tekken 6.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>You fall.  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I don't own Tekken. If I did, I'd be rich and then I could play it all the time.

**A/N: **I wrote this piece just after I bought Tekken 6, in one morning. That's a really impressive feat for me: I usually take days to write a fic, and I'm going through sort of a writer's block recently.

Even though I don't really like it, as a tribute to my inspiration, I decided to publish this fic without waiting too long - some passers-by might like it, after all. Be warned: there might be a lot of mistakes in this one. If you spot one, warn me so I can fix it.

Just as a note, Tekken is my new obsession. Yay!

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><p><strong>Prophecy<strong>

You fall.

You fall and you fall and you crash against destruction and fire, breaking in a thousand small pieces like ashes in the wind, under the hard brown eyes – watchful eyes, and you're _angry_, because each piece of you reflects a different person and no one else has nothing to do with the person you are.

It's when a malign wind sweeps you off your feet and into one whole man, and hate is the weapon in your hand, only she holds it and begs of you to stop.

You had not noticed she was there, but when you do, it's like she has always been; you take in her kind green and sweet little smile, as if there is something about her just a little beyond your reach.

She walks at your side, holding hands with you, through a yellow brick road under the sky full of purplish fire, a Latin chant in your ears which is painful to listen – so you two run into the fire, to make it stop somehow.

And, as you run, you notice the softness of her hand under yours, and the gentleness in her expression – the fine traces of her beauty – and you do not want it to stop. The world inside her eyes has a whole new meaning.

(_It's when it occurs to you it sounds like a dream)_

You two are sitting on the grass under the purplish sky and in her eyes you can see all the stars you cannot see; it is like the two of you can forget the destruction and rest of the world, because you are spinning around her anyway, as if her presence makes the fire go away – which is stupid, because it is only lurking around you, in the form of robots and soldiers and an old man that warns you about something you do not want to hear.

And because you can do anything if she is at your side, you rise to the sky to face the hard all-seeing brown eyes and the chant behind them. And you fight and you bleed, because you are _you _and you are the only one who can.

Words that you cannot hear are mouthed but their existence is evident against your shivering spine.

She also hears it – and she _changes, _like an box from which everything is removed, and you see, amazed and frightened, the world in her eyes disappear little by little, replaced by that inhuman red shine.

And you are falling – no, you already _fell, _fell in love with her and her eyes and her smile – and everything falls out of its axis and your heart falters because it cannot end when it has only just begun.

She attacks and the very ground under your feet cracks – and you fall and you fall and you crash and you're nothing but ashes in the wind—

"_Lars."_

—as the roaring fire consumes _everything_—

"_Lars."_

—and she looks at you with unfeeling red eyes—

"_Lars__, wake up!"_

—and she's nothing but a mach—

"_Please, wake—"_

* * *

><p>"—<em>up!"<em>

An explosion of light and sound resonated behind his closed eyelids and Lars woke up with a start and a desperate attempt to get away from it, adrenaline high in his veins – only for Alisa's strong arms to hold him in place.

"I am sorry", she said anxiously, a fine trace of smoke rising from her neck. "I was not able to wake you up by words only and it distressed me."

Lars didn't answer, feeling slightly dizzy, the memories of his dream slipping through his fingers like water or smoke – and he was sure there was something very important about it, something he should remember before it ended—

"You were experiencing agitation in your sleep", Alisa countered, still looking regretful. "My database recognized it as a possible sign of nightmares, and I thought I should wake you up – according to my database, nightmares are very unpleasant."

She looked at him, curious and longing for an answer, and, for a moment, Lars had to shake off the only image that had remained, a monster with unfeeling eyes and Alisa's face.

"Lars?"

And the fall, he could remember falling—

"Lars, are you able to hear me?"

—because it could not be true—

"Oh. My database is saying nightmares are a way for the mind to deal with stressful happenings in reality. Perhaps I should not have woken you up."

"No", he finally found his voice. "No, no, I'm all right."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes", a little bit steadier. "Please, do wake me up whenever you notice I am having nightmares. They are – upsetting."

The world disappearing.

"I shall", she said, smiling kindly.

Something in her expression – the fine beauty of her traces, that shine inside her eyes that ignited something he didn't know inside him – relaxed his muscles and his heart, and the questions floated away, all but one.

He lay down again, staring at the starred sky. "Alisa?", he called, in the most nonchalant way he could.

"Yes?"

"What does your database says about prophetic dreams?"

She stood quiet for a moment.

"It says that, through there are humans who claim to have the ability of seeing the future through their dreams, nothing has ever been scientifically proven." She looked at him curiously. "I do not believe you should worry about your nightmare becoming reality."

He looked at her.

For a moment, he could see all the stars of the sky in her eyes.

"Thank you", he said.

_I hope you're right_, he didn't say.

She smiled kindly at him.

_Because, if you ever lost these stars – if you ever got that look on your face—_

"How many more hours do we have before we have to leave?"

"Two hours, forty-five minutes and thirty-one – thirty-three seconds."

—_I don't think I'd be able to fight__ you._

"I'm going to sleep a few hours more, then."

"I will stay here and watch your expressions, so I can wake you up if you have nightmares. Good night."

_Even__ to save the world._

He looked at her, drinking in her expressions, just once before closing his eyes.

_Would I?_

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><p><strong>Thanks to: <strong>Namco!


End file.
